something cold and something new
by The People Speak
Summary: "Fhirdiad is cold. Byleth hates the cold." - it's hard to stay warm when you don't have a beating heart. Azure Moon Compliant (Mostly)


_Note: This takes place in a universe where they spend some time in Fhirdiad sorting out affairs which leads to spending the winter there before turning and marching for Derdriu in the Azure Moon route. For example, assume that Edelgard needs more time to reorganize her forces after Gronder. _

* * *

Fhirdiad is _cold_.

Byleth hates the cold. She hates the permeating chill of the stone walls of the palace and the frost that creeps across the inside and outside of the window panes. She hops from mantle to mantle, trying to keep warm in front of the fire subtly enough that she does not draw attention to herself.

She takes the chair closest to the hearth in the dining room and the chair furthest from the long row of windows in the war room. She closes curtains and wears as many layers as she can afford to without looking bulky. And she's still cold.

Of course, the Blue Lions don't seem to react to the cold. Sylvain is from the furthest north and if his stories are anything to go by, he once spent a night in the cold with no protection so Byleth is not surprised to see him wandering about the palace in his usual wear. Felix and Ingrid also seem unphased as they simply trade their thinner layers for more insulated cloaks they appear to carry at all times.

Annette complains a bit, but Felix lends her a coat and afterward, she clams up for almost three days straight, red to the tip of her ears. Mercedes has her own coat, but she hovers around fires as well, a habit leftover from her time growing up in the Empire. Dedue doesn't seem to be affected beyond the occasional shiver due to a gust of wind and Ashe seems to enjoy the chill, appreciating the drifting of snowflakes and the puffs of air from their breaths.

If Dedue and Sylvain are unaffected by the cold, Dimitri thrives in it. The chill seems to bolster his mood and give him more energy. He's animated as he contributes in war meetings and his chin is held high throughout the whole day. He looks more like the prince Byleth knew before the war started and she knows it is partly due to their success in taking back Fhirdiad from Cornelia.

She only wishes she could enjoy Dimitri's good mood, but she can't because she's so damn cold.

* * *

Observant as ever, Mercedes is the first to notice.

"Hello Professor," the healer greets softly as she walks into the study Byleth has been using.

Byleth glances up as she enters and cringes. She's currently wearing a jacket and has a blanket draped over her lap and she's still shivering. Mercedes just smiles sweetly and drifts across the room. She places the tray she had been holding on Byleth's desk and pours her a cup of tea.

"Can I help you, Mercedes?" Byleth asks.

Mercedes laughs lightly. "This is a cinnamon ginger tea. It warms you up fairly well and I thought a cup of it might help you stay warmer."

Byleth feels her ears burn a little as she takes the teacup from her former student. "Am I that obvious?"

Mercedes shakes her head and pours herself a cup of tea, settling into the chair across from Byleth. "Not at all, Professor, I'm just good at noticing things like that. It's my job, after all."

Byleth laughs a bit as she sips the tea. The water is scalding, but the spice bites through and floods her with warmth. She pulls it back and blows across the surface, appreciating its aroma for a little bit. "I feel a bit foolish, to be honest," she confesses. "We had done work in Faerghus before, but never in the winter so I never realized how cold it truly got here."

Mercedes nods. "Growing up in House Bartels, it was never this cold. It was only after I came to the School of Sorcery I really learned what winter was like. I'm still not great with the cold, but layers and tea can do wonders for you when you're not moving about."

Byleth sips her tea again. The spice blend is sharp but pleasant and she does feel a bit warmer already. "I've already gone through so much firewood in my room I fear the servants think I'm some kind of hot-blooded demon."

Mercedes giggles lightly. "Of course they don't, Professor. But, if you're really suffering from the chill in your room, you might want to ask Felix for some advice. He cold-proofed Annie's room and he did quite a good job, I might add."

Byleth raises an eyebrow. "Felix and Annette? What's going on there?"

Mercedes hums lightly into her own tea with a smile. "More than either of them care to admit, but Annie's terribly shy and we all know how Felix is with emotions."

Byleth smiles. "You are probably too perceptive for your own good, Mercedes. But, on the other hand, I don't know where we'd be without you either."

* * *

She finds Felix in the training hall, slashing away at a training dummy. He's right where she expects him to be. She pauses in the entrance and watches his lightning-fast sword work. He knocks the dummy flat on its back and finishes by frying it with a snap of his fingers and a bolt of lightning from a Thunder spell. He's breathing quite heavily when he turns and finds her watching him.

"What do you want?" he demands. Felix jabs his sword back into its sheath and folds his arms.

Byleth picks up a training sword from the rack and tests its balance. "I have a favour to ask of you, but I figured we could spar first."

He narrows his eyes but draws his sword again. "A favour?"

They begin to circle each other, swords at the ready. Byleth jabs quickly and he parries, matching her for speed. He slashes and she sidesteps and counterattacks, forcing him to step back.

"If I beat you, I'll ask you," Byleth says. She doesn't see the reason to be humiliated by Felix twice–once in defeat and once for admitting weakness–when it could be for one or the other.

"What kind of duel were you thinking?" he questions as he tests a jab against her defences.

Byleth spins and summons a bolt of white energy above her palm, flashing it forward. Felix rolls out of the way of her Nosferatu and a grin edges up his face. He charges at her quickly and Byleth dodges the blows of his sword and then all the hair on her arms stands on end. On instinct, she rolls to the right and his Thoron spell scorches the ground where she had been standing before.

The sparks catch on her cloak and Byleth curses as the hem of it bursts into flame. She rips it from her shoulders and stamps it into the dirt, smothering the flames. The fire disappears quickly and Byleth grumbles as she scoops it up from the ground. She tries to stop the goosebumps from rising on her arms, but the loss of her cloak's warmth along with the sudden lack of warmth due to exertion has her shivering unintentionally.

A few feet away, Felix watches her, his sword lowered. He looks more amused than annoyed as he assesses her. "You'll never be able to fight well with a cloak like that, Professor," he points out.

Byleth sighs and pulls it back on, lifting her blade. "I'm aware," she replies coolly.

Felix doesn't make a move to fight her again and Byleth drops her sword back to her side and frowns.

"You're not much for our winters, are you?" he asks after a moment.

"No," Byleth admits. "I had actually come here hoping to ask you to help me like you did Annette."

Felix's ears turn pink at the mention of Annette and he pivots, heading for the weapon rack. "Cover the base of your windows, keep coals smouldering in your hearth, and keep your curtains drawn as much as you can. There are probably heavier curtains too if you ask around."

His advice is curt and simple enough and Byleth's lips twitch at the simple and Felix-like response.

"Thank you," she says to him and he just grunts in reply, still very interested in the rack of weapons.

* * *

Byleth volunteers for a routine scouting mission with Ashe and Ingrid a week later. She's been basically holed up inside the castle for the last week and a bit and she had been going slightly stir-crazy inside. Ingrid flies ahead on her pegasus while Byleth and Ashe ride along more leisurely on horseback.

Ashe has a scarf wrapped around his neck with the bottom half of his face obscured as he hunches a bit to shield his pink cheeks. Byleth is wearing a borrowed scarf from Dedue that Mercedes had procured for her when Byleth had asked to borrow something warm. Ingrid, above them, is dressed in a few more layers, but despite the frigid air while in flight, she seems perfectly at home.

Byleth shakes her head as she watches the Falcon Knight fly gracefully ahead of them.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Ashe asks, following her gaze. He chuckles lightly. "I don't know how they carry on like they're not even a little cold. I'd be totally frozen up there."

Byleth glances at him and Ashe lifts his chin so she can see the shy smile on his face. "When I was on the streets I got used to being cold, but I've been away from the north at the monastery for a while so I almost forgot what it was like, honestly," he admits.

Byleth turns her gaze back to Ingrid. "You've noticed I don't take the cold too well too, then?"

"Well, Professor, it did take me up to the moment that Mercedes gave you that scarf. I had almost completely forgotten you weren't even originally from Faerghus lands. The climate at the monastery is much warmer than most of the Kingdom."

Byleth fights off a chill as a stronger wind blows by, ruffling her hair. She tucks her chin further into her borrowed scarf and frowns. "I should be more used to this by now," she mumbles. "We've been here for a while and I know that Gilbert wants us to stay until this latest storm is over before we head back to the monastery."

"Don't feel bad, Professor. Just because some of us are more used to the cold, doesn't mean we like it any more than you do," Ashe reminds gently.

Byleth chuckles. "No, I suppose that's true enough."

"Professor! Ashe!"

Their attention is quickly caught by Ingrid as she swoops down, a frown marring her pretty features. Byleth and Ashe pull their mounts to a stop and stare at the Falcon Knight curiously. Ingrid pulls to a stop a few feet away, staying off the snow-covered ground.

"Looks like that bandit troupe we caught word of is camped up ahead. There's only a few of them, but we can go back for reinforcements if we need to."

Byleth exhales and slides off her horse. She ties her reins to a nearby bush and starts unlatching some of her gear. "We came out here to find them and they may be long gone by the time we return with reinforcements."

The snow is ankle-deep and cold as it soaks through her boots and her pants. Byleth refuses to let her discomfort show as she slings her bow over her back and attaches her sword to her hip. Ashe also dismounts, pulling his quiver, bow and lance free. Ingrid stays mounted and her frown deepens.

"The snow won't be an issue?" she asks.

Byleth shakes her head. It's cold, sure, but she refuses to let that get in the way of her duty. "Let's get this over with quickly. It's one less thing to worry about before we have to head back to Garreg Mach."

She heads out in the direction Ingrid had returned from and both of her former students follow her after a moment. She sees the bandits' fire before she sees them. She pulls her bow out and strings an arrow, taking aim at one of the silhouettes she spies in beside the flame. Beside her, Ashe does the same.

They let their arrows fly in unison and two of the figures fall without a sound. There's a flurry of chaos in the camp as they seem to realize they are under attack. Opponents scramble for weapons and Byleth vaults over the fallen log in front of her, breaking for their camp. Ingrid swoops down, her lance gleaming as she strikes. Ashe lets another arrow fly and Byleth throws herself into the battle.

She cuts down two more bandits quite easily. As she pulls her sword free, she turns, assessing the remaining few. Ingrid is handling herself fine and Ashe has moved in closer but is still using his bow and his agility to counter close-ranged opponents effectively. Byleth's gaze continues and she notices a figure breaking the outside of the circle, heading into the forest. Without hesitating, she follows the figure quickly, her hand curled tightly around her blade.

The snow slows her down, but she still manages to gain some ground on her opponent. When she has a clear line of sight on him, she sends a sharp burst of flame outwards, sending him sprawling. She has effectively chased him out of the woods into a snow-covered clearing. Byleth approaches the downed figure slowly, just in case he's staying down as a trick.

She hears rustling in the trees behind her and risks a glance back to see Ingrid and Ashe have followed her. Ashe scans the clearing warily and his green eyes widen suddenly.

"Professor!" he yells. "Get off the ice!"

Byleth barely has a second to register the warning. Confusion flares through her at the word 'ice' because she's standing on the snow-covered ground. Before she can take another step there's an ominous groaning sound and her chest tightens.

She hadn't chased her foe into a clearing. She had chased him _straight onto a frozen lake_.

Byleth steps back towards the trees and hears another low creaking sound so she stops. Ashe is standing at the edge of the clearing where he has apparently discerned where the lake begins. Ingrid is flying toward her on her pegasus, brow knit in concentration. Byleth slowly lowers herself to the ground, trying to disperse her weight as her father had once taught her.

Ingrid is above her now and reaching out with her hand. Byleth shifts, moving to grab her former student's hand. There's a louder crack below her and just as Byleth's ungloved fingers grasp at Ingrid's gloved hands, the ice gives out.

The water is _freezing_ as it envelops her and Byleth nearly screams at the shock of the cold. The water is dark and consuming and she flails furiously in the direction she thinks is up. She can see a muddle glimpse of light above her and can faintly hear yelling. Finally, after a furiously long second, her head breaks the surface and the cool air stings against her soaked skin.

Byleth lifts a hand and Ingrid grasps it immediately, pulling her quickly the rest of the way out of the water. Her clothes stick to her body immediately and she can feel them biting at the remaining warmth she has. Byleth coughs and gasps and Ingrid flies them precariously over to the edge of the lake.

The two women stumble off the pegasus and Ingrid immediately rips off Byleth's drenched cloak. Ashe immediately replaces it with his own dry, fur-lined cloak. Byleth can barely feel the change in warmth. She's shivering so hard she can barely see and the cold is still clinging to her every limb. She feels sluggish and half-dead and her chest aches.

"If I fly her back, I'm afraid that the winds will freeze her solid," Ingrid says to Ashe. Byleth can barely hear her. It feels like there is cotton pressed in her ears, muffling all sound.

She sways on her feet as the world blurs around her. She feels a set of arms wrap around her and she can barely make out Ashe's voice asking her something, but the words are lost in her haze. Her vision tunnels and she collapses, the sound fading out completely.

* * *

When she wakes up, she feels weighed down. Byleth stares at the warm pink of her eyelids for a moment before she musters the strength to open her eyes. She finds herself staring at the ceiling of the infirmary back inside the castle. She blinks slowly before allowing her eyes to take in the rest of her situation.

She's lying on a hospital bed covered in at least three heavy quilts. The curtains in the room are drawn shut and there's a fire crackling in the hearth. There's a large silhouette standing in front of the fire and it takes Byleth an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that it is Dimitri.

She shifts in the bed and tries to sit up. Dimitri wheels towards her, hearing her movement and his good eye widens when they make eye contact. He crosses the room to her side in three steps and reaches for her with large, warm hands.

"Professor, please! Stay lying down," he instructs.

Byleth frowns and tries to sit up anyways. Dimitri sighs and recognizes the futility of his request. He slides his hands to her arms and gently lifts her into a sitting position. He reaches behind her and adjusts her pillow so she can be leaning against it.

Byleth purses her lips at the overwhelming concern in Dimitri's expression. His hands linger on her pillow and he scans her face nervously.

"Dimitri," she says gently. "I'm okay."

He frowns. "You almost weren't, Professor, so you'll have to forgive me for my concern."

Byleth pulls one of her hands free from the mountain of blankets she's under. She reaches for his hand and curls her fingers through his. "I'm okay," she repeats.

"Your hands are still cold," he murmurs softly. Dimitri withdraws his hands and detaches the heavy mantle draped over his shoulders. He leans in close and pulls it around her shoulders.

Byleth instinctively shivers as the warm fabric wraps around her, chasing away the lingering chills of her body. Dimitri sits on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his cloak over her shoulders. He stares into her face, still looking frustratingly worried.

Byleth reaches up and gently touches his hands where they lie on her shoulder. "Thank you, Dimitri," she says quietly.

His gaze softens. "Of course, Professor," he replies.

He leans away after a moment, his ears pink, and drops his gaze down to her lap. Byleth drops her hands to his and grips them, relishing in their warmth.

"If the cold had truly been bothering you, you could have returned to Garreg Mach," he says after a moment of silence.

Byleth laughs. "And leave you here alone? That sounds like a recipe for disaster."

"Mercedes mentioned she noticed it had been affecting you," Dimitri points out.

Byleth shrugs. "I guess we never spent much of the winter in the Kingdom when I was growing up. My father never liked the cold either."

Dimitri shakes his head. "I suppose I missed the signs even when they were right there. The cold reminds me of home," he admits. He glances toward the window where the curtains are drawn tightly shut to keep the chill out. "My father used to play in the snow with me." He closes his eyes as he reminisces. "It was the most relaxed I ever saw him when we were out there. My mother thought we were ridiculous, but I loved it."

Byleth smiles and squeezes his hands. "You've been happy here and I'm glad to see it. I'll go back to the monastery with everyone else after the storm," she says firmly.

Dimitri sighs. "I suppose that makes the most sense now, but please, Professor, don't go standing on anymore frozen lakes."

Byleth huffs a breath. "If I had known it was there, I wouldn't have done it."

Dimitri laughs lightly and Byleth's chest tightens at the sound. "Even so, you had us all very worried." His smile drops as he remembers. "Professor, do you know that you don't have a heartbeat? You have a pulse but there's no heartbeat. When Mercedes couldn't find your heartbeat we were all so worried until she found a pulse." Dimitri shakes his head again. "How is this even possible?"

Byleth bites her lower lip. She wishes she could answer him and take away the worry that is still wreathed around him. "I don't know," she admits. "But, I've always been like this. Maybe it's the reason the cold affected me so quickly with the water."

Dimitri ponders that. "I suppose. Mercedes was saying that hypothermia can be worsened by poor blood flow and if your lack of heartbeat limits that, it would make sense."

The clock above the mantle chimes and they both look toward it, startled. Dimitri tenses as he notices the time and he sighs deeply.

"You have work to continue," Byleth guesses. By the rueful glance he gives her, she knows she's right. She squeezes his hands again before reaching to remove his cloak.

Dimitri catches her hands before she can remove it. "Keep it, please. I'll feel less worried about the cold affecting you if you have it."

Byleth smiles. "Alright," she agrees. "You should go."

Dimitri shifts his weight off the bed, standing, and glances at the clock once more. "Please take care, Professor. I can come back later tonight, if you would like some company."

Byleth reaches up, pulling herself further out of her blanket cocoon, and grabs Dimitri's arm. She pulls him down far enough so that she can gently press a kiss to his cheek. His face flushes almost immediately, but he doesn't immediately spring away from her. Instead, his gaze turns impossibly gentle and he leans forward to press his lips to the top of her forehead. He pulls back after that and Byleth notes the subtle flush to his cheeks.

She hides a small smile. "Don't work too hard, Dimitri, there's plenty of things we have left to accomplish."

He is partway to the door when he hears her and he pauses, looking back over his shoulder at her bundled in blankets and his cloak. "I'll have to look into cold-proofing the castle more so that we can come back here because, as you said, we have a whole future ahead of us."

The words are more optimistic than anything that Dimitri has said for months and they warm Byleth much more effectively than any blanket could. The gentle affection in his eyes and the scent of him that clings to his cloak cause her own cheeks to warm as the words die on her lips and Dimitri slips out of the room, leaving her alone with the crackling fire.

"I wonder what future you see for us," Byleth whispers to the quiet room, pulling Dimitri's cloak tight around her shoulders. It is still warm and for the first time since arriving in Fhirdiad, Byleth doesn't feel cold.

* * *

_Author's Note: Some short and sweet mostly-platonic, pining Dimileth. I've had a rough week so I needed something soft to work on, hence this.  
_

_I'm on Tumblr (nicolewrites) and AO3 (nicole_writes) so come chat!_


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